Reason Which Reason Knows Not
by PhoenixFalls
Summary: "The heart has its reasons which reason knows not." ― Blaise Pascal. One-shot that takes place during some nebulous time in S4. Either just before or just after 52 Pickup. Emily/Jordan with frequent mentions of Jemily


Emily wasn't quite sure what was going on. No, that wasn't technically true. She _knew_ what was going on. She was kissing Jordan Todd. No, that wasn't technically true. She was _violently making out_ with Jordan Todd. What she wasn't sure of was how, exactly, they'd gotten to this point. 'This point' being the heated swirl of their tongues as they sighed into each other's mouths and not the being attracted to each other part. Emily was a Prentiss and Prentiss' weren't stupid. She had known Jordan was attracted to her. She was intimately familiar with that very particular kind of dance done between two women who were interested to each other and had perfected the steps to that dance in her early twenties. She could have taught a class on it by now. When she had found herself enticed by the slightly smaller woman relatively quickly, she had entered into the aforethought of dance willingly.

At first it had been more 'won't they' than 'will they' but that had been all right. Emily was perfectly capable of being attracted to someone without expecting or even really wanting anything out of that attraction and she _hadn't_ really wanted anything. Emily was a little particular about the relationships she'd been having for a while now. 'Relationship' be an overly generous interpretation of the phrase 'casual sex.' She wasn't looking for anything but the uncomplicatedness of being with someone you didn't run the risk of feeling too deeply for. That you didn't cross paths with frequently (or at all). That you didn't _work_ with.

But Jordan wasn't just a gorgeous face with a smooth voice and a determination to not disappoint JJ's trust that she could handle the blonde's job while she was gone; she was also quick witted, passionate, a little obstinate, keenly observant, and she wouldn't back down from an argument. Emily liked that in people. Liked that in _Jordan_. Emily found that the more they had cause to pal around outside of work, the more she noticed they had in common and the more she _did_ want something to happen despite her better judgment and the initial cause of her misgivings in the first place. So the flirtation between them had escalated for a while. Lingering touches became bolder, fleeting glances stopped being so fleeting, and even the most innocuous phrases seemed to drip with innuendo and promise.

Emily had wanted to wait to make a move. Wait until they weren't on a case. Wait until they weren't at _work_ but Emily was a Prentiss and Prentiss' weren't particularly patient once they knew they could have what they wanted. Emily wanted Jordan. Luckily, Emily was also keen on how stupid it was to pursue an (against protocol) office romance when you worked around a bunch of profilers who were still _in_ the office and had kept herself to herself on this blessedly slow day until everyone else had gone home and the door to Hotch's office had been tightly closed.

Emily had come up with a believable (and partially true) reason to intrude on Jordan's temporary space in JJ's office and so had made her way up from the bullpen to slip through the door and close it behind her. Agent Todd had been standing near the back of a heavy (and stuffed) black metal filing cabinet humming tunelessly to herself in concentration and frowning slightly at her phone which she held in one hand. The soft light of the lamp on the desk outlined the younger woman's features rather dynamically and Emily just took a moment before she was noticed. Half to just drink in Jordan's clear beauty and half because she was unsure from the expression on her face if she was actually intruding.

The faint scowl marring Jordan's features disappeared suddenly and she tapped her thumb against the screen of her phone rapidly before a satisfied grin crept over her face and the correct answer chime for the Draw Something app plinged cheerily through the otherwise silent office. Emily laughed, and Jordan to look up sheepishly at being caught playing games despite it being after the close of business day. The embarrassment on the shorter agent's face disappeared once their eyes met and was replaced instead with a look that could only be described as alluring causing Emily to clean forget what excuse she'd managed to cleave together for being in the office in the fist place.

Jordan had arched an amused eyebrow at noticing Emily floundering for something to say and then, suddenly, they were kissing. Emily had absolutely no recollection of crossing the distance between them but knew she'd vividly remember the anticipatory gasp Jordan had given when she had pulled her crudely towards her for a _while_. Now, kissing each other fervently, Jordan untangled her fingers from Emily's hair and slid her hands down the profiler's sides until they came to rest with a possessive grip at her hips, prompting Emily's own hands to move to Jordan's shoulders and shove the younger woman roughly against the wall where she grunted but didn't pull away.

Emily had pulled away however, because the rattling of something against the wall when Jordan had hit it had broken through her concupiscent haze just enough to remind herself that if they destroyed the office there was going to be a conversation with Hotch in their immediate future that neither of them wanted. Emily leaned back while Jordan leaned forward, undeterred from the loss of the profiler's lips on her own and busying herself with trailing haphazard open mouthed kisses down the pale expanse of Emily's neck. The thing that had rattled and now rested at a conspicuous angle was a highly polished mahogany plaque with a gold plate in the centre. Etched in the gold was the declaration of a somewhat platitudinous award for service to the city addressed to 'Jennifer Jareau.'

Emily stalled.

Her entire body tensed so suddenly and completely that it interrupted the fog of desire that had settled over Jordan as well and the temporary liaison had pulled away, curiosity fading quickly to concern at noting the myriad of conflicting emotions playing across Emily's face though she remained stock still.

Jordan called the other woman's name softly, almost afraid she'd shock her terribly with anything louder and Emily blinked slowly though her gaze was still fixed at a point over her shoulder. Jordan lifted a hand to gently stroke the soft skin of Emily's cheek; calling her name again and that seemed to break her out of whatever daze she had been in. Rather than an explanation though, Emily stepped backwards like she'd been burnt and shook her head nervously, running a hand through her hair and deliberately avoiding Jordan's worried gaze .

"I'm, I'm sorry." Emily stammered, shaking her head again and turning towards the door quickly. "I'm, I can't; I'm sorry." This said practically over her shoulder as she rushed out of the office leaving Jordan staring confusedly after her.

Jordan resisted every impulse she had to go after the other woman, knowing full well it wouldn't be appreciated. She rested her palm tightly against her chest, willing her heart to slow to a more normal pace and then frowned while she bent to pick up the phone she'd dropped carelessly several minutes ago. Clearing her throat for no other reason than to try and normalize her body which hadn't quite yet gotten the memo that Emily's body wasn't pressed to hers anymore, she turned to look at what had caught the other woman's attention and righted the award on the wall.

JJ. Of course it was JJ.

Emily had told her in the most bare bones of ways about how she'd had feelings for the blonde. Feelings that terrified her with the sheer depth and intensity of them. Feelings that had terrified her so much in fact, that she'd all but physically pushed the other woman towards Will. Feelings that had made her reluctant to want anything other than a one-night stand or a casual arrangement that would be guaranteed to be free of any real attachment. That gave Jordan pause. She knew Emily liked her, but clearly the other brunette's attraction was more than just carnal to cause such a reaction and Jordan was no elite profiler but it was obvious that Agent Prentiss not only didn't want to hurt herself, but didn't want to hurt _her_ either.

Truthfully, Jordan didn't usually like that kind of trait in partners—man or woman. She was an adult and could make her own decisions about getting involved with someone whose heart lay out of reach; she didn't need protecting. But Emily was earnest and selfless in a way Jordan hadn't encountered in anyone she'd been attracted to before and so found herself feeling oddly touched and sympathetic rather than annoyed. It was these feelings that spurred her to ignore the sureness of the knowledge that Emily would want to avoid her for a few days, collect her things, and go after the profiler.

Emily had thought about going home the second she'd started her car but had found herself instead looking for that most elusive creature known as a parking space in DC near a bar she liked to frequent when she wasn't in the mood for company because it wasn't haunted by people related to work. She had quickly made herself at home at an empty booth in a shadowed corner with a short glass full of mildly expensive scotch which she hadn't touched since she'd set it on the liquid warped table.

With no one around she needed to school her features or disguise her natural physical reactions to anxiety for, she had taken to rapidly nervously bouncing her left leg up and down. Her left hand had been brought up towards her mouth where she still hadn't even registered that she was gnawing absently at a blunted thumbnail while her right was wrapped around her phone, scrolling aimlessly through her contacts. She would stop at the entry for Jordan's name and stare at it for a moment before flicking quickly through the rest of the rolodex and stopping again at JJ's name to repeat the process.

She wasn't sure what she was meant to accomplish with this little exercise in distracting herself from her tense discomfort. Part of her wanted to call Jordan to apologize. To explain. To regain some face. To convince Jordan—and herself—that everything was fine. To swear up and down that she wasn't usually such a mess emotionally. Part of her wanted to call Jennifer and yell at her. Yell at her for going to that dopey detective when she'd told her to instead of seeing how scared she was and calling her on it. Yell at her for all the looks of pained regret the blonde gave her when they'd visited and she thought no one would notice. Yell at her because she knew she was only angry with herself for basically bringing the whole situation into being. As a compromise, she ignored both parts and scrolled endlessly through her phonebook and tried not to feel like such a colossal idiot.

Emily wasn't sure how long she'd sat at the booth not drinking and staring unseeingly at her phone screen, but clearly it had been long enough for the decision to be made for her. She set her phone down on the table and dropped her hand away from her mouth when she heard rather than saw Jordan slide into the vinyl bench seat across from her. Her leg refused to be still but she managed to dial back the rapid jerking to a barely noticeable twitch. She wondered how the other woman had known to come. Only two people even knew she came here.

"Garcia told me I might find you here." Jordan said gently when the silence stretched out tightly between them and answering Emily's unspoken question.

Emily tilted her head slightly in what could have been an attempt at a nod as she inwardly cringed. Her best friend was aware of the… _issues_ (to put it mildly) that had been going on and had been trying to get her to talk about things but since JJ had gotten pregnant, Emily had been insisting she was fine and ignoring Penelope's doubtful looks and frequent invitations to talk. Obviously the zaftig hacker was tired of her avoidance tactics and if Emily wasn't going to talk to her, she was going to make damn sure she talked to someone.

Emily let the silence persist for a moment longer before she took a deep breath and let it out noisily. "I'm sorry." She started, her voice self-conscious but sincere. She carded her fingers through her hair frustratedly one time and threw her gaze at the ceiling before returning it to the tabletop, still refusing to meet the eyes of her companion. "This is stupid. I'm being _stupid_ and you don't deserve that."

Jordan scoffed like she was trying to hold back a laugh and Emily wanted to scowl but kept it off her face. She did startle a bit when Jordan's slightly calloused fingertips trailed down the back of her hand before her whole palm rested over top of Emily's and gave it a soft squeeze.

"Emily, look at me."

The other woman's voice is sweet but the tone made it clear that it was not a request so Emily reluctantly did as she was told; her gaze steady once their eyes finally met. Jordan smiled encouragingly and squeezed the hand underneath her palm again before continuing.

"Look, Em, it's not like I want to get _married_ or anything, okay?" she smiled more naturally as Emily chuckled at the teasing tone but when she continued, her voice was serious. "I like you and you like me and this doesn't have to be anything other than two friends having a good time. If something happens, it happens and I'm okay if it does, but I'm not expecting that and I'm okay with that too. Are you?"

Emily let out a loud sigh so full of relief it was bordering on a laugh and upturned her hand so that she was holding Jordan's. "Yeah," she replied with a nod, running her thumb over the skin it can reach. "That's perfect."

"So, Agent Prentiss… I've gotta say," Jordan grinned while gesturing to one of the bar staff nearby that she would have what the profiler across from her was drinking and then turned her attention back to where it mattered. "You're a hellof a kisser and I'd _love_ to get back to that, but first I think you should buy me a drink."

Emily laughed and finally picked up her own drink when Jordan's was set in front of her, touching the glass together when the other woman held out her drink, their hands still entangled on the tabletop.


End file.
